Tony doesn’t think that it’s sick that Justin likes it when he’s demanding, and not because he’s sick or convinced of his own superiority. It’s because Tony likes when Justin’s demanding, and he figures that if he finds something hot, it’s possible that Justin will too. And he finds it incredibly hot.

“Okay.”

Justin may not have phrased it like a command, but Tony snaps to like it is. He lifts himself up, fumbles with the shirt, and yanks it up with this graceless, wriggling flop that looks unfortunately like a fish on land. Not sexy, but there isn’t room to be sexy and it gets the shirt off, which is the most important part anyway.

There is one minor hiccup along the way, and it’s due to the fact that he’s listening to what Justin’s saying. For a moment, he can only stare at him, frozen with so much wanting that he feels like he’ll explode from it. Then the shirt’s off so fast he thinks he rips it and he grabs for Justin’s hips to yank him down against his own erection, hard now thanks to the outlining of the game plan.

“Yes.” It’s difficult to arch up against Justin’s hips, pull them down, and still try to get a hand in there to get Justin’s pants open and off, but Tony gives it his best shot. It’s a failed shot, of course, and he can only growl in frustration. “Jeans gotta go, Justin. Now. They gotta go now.”